


Shut Up and Dance With Me

by A_Candle_For_Sherlock



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Dancing, Fluff, Johnlock Roulette, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-08
Updated: 2016-04-08
Packaged: 2018-06-01 00:04:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6493147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Candle_For_Sherlock/pseuds/A_Candle_For_Sherlock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What are you doing?” John shouts to be heard above the pandemonium.</p><p>“I love dancing!” Sherlock shouts back, astounding John, and then he's moving to the rhythm with joyful skill and John is giggling helplessly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shut Up and Dance With Me

“I don’t know if I can wait for our grades to come back. I need to know now,” John groans. He’s laying flat on the floor of the dormitory lounge while his roommate, Sherlock, drapes his impossibly long self across the fraying sofa. Exam week is finally over. John is simultaneously exhausted and absurdly keyed up. “I know obsessing about it is ridiculous but I can’t seem to stop myself.”

“You can’t just force yourself to quit worrying,” Sherlock agrees. “You don’t have that level of control over your mental state.”

John snorts. “And you do, I suppose.” He’s used to Sherlock’s grandiose statements by now. He does have a remarkable mind. If you ignore the flashes of arrogance, he’s the most entertaining person John knows. They can talk about anything-–assignments, ethics, the finer points of handling a violin, the probable motivations of fictional characters, the secret lives of students they see walking in the quad. Sherlock doesn’t seem to understand much about feelings, or tact, or subtlety, but he’s magnificent at observation and deduction. It fascinates John. At first he was just John’s off-beat roommate, but over the months they’ve been at uni they’ve fallen into spending all their time together.

Sherlock suddenly swings himself upright, moving from indolent to urgent in a breath. “Let’s go. We’re getting out and finding a distraction for you.”

“What kind?” Last time it was checking a theory of Sherlock’s by cutting open the guts of several dead rats Sherlock had saved in the biology department’s laboratory freezer. “Sherlock, is it something I’ll actually like?”

“Testing homemade explosives?”

“Sherlock...”

“I'm teasing. I thought we could go people watching. At the cafe on the corner. Acceptable?”

“Always." John grins.

 

They settle into their chairs on the restaurant’s outdoor patio and sit back. Sherlock scans the other patrons. “Look at that,” he murmurs. “We’ve got a flash mob proposal coming up in about sixty seconds.”

“Seriously?” John looks around. “Show me.”

“Okay, there’s quite a few people at these tables who are probably professional dancers, going by posture, muscle tone and characteristic injuries to their limbs and extremities. They're all on alert. There’s an amp sitting under that table and a boy glancing between it, the iPod he's just plugged into it and the couple over there. Obviously he's about to play some music and it's to do with them. They're clearly a long term pairing on an enjoyable date. They’re both responsive to the other's presence; their body language is open and she’s deeply relaxed. She trusts him. He’s not so comfortable–-he’s nervous, he’s jiggling his foot and he hasn’t eaten that much; but it’s not closed him off to her–-he’s clutching her hand under the table with one hand like it’s keeping him grounded, while the other hand rubs the pocket with the ring in it.”

“Amazing,” John says softly. Sherlock looks down and smiles.

Then person after person around the patio stands up and suddenly the song “Shut Up and Dance” starts playing from the hidden speaker. The dancers spin into motion. The woman sits open mouthed, stunned, as they dance and the music fills the square and her partner smiles at her tenderly. And then she’s crying, he’s down on one knee, and it’s all ridiculously lovely, really. John's a romantic; he’s always known that. He’s not surprised to feel himself tearing up in sympathy as she takes the ring. What does surprise him is that Sherlock actually seems interested, watching them–-no, more. Happy.

Everyone’s cheering, now, and the dancers are applauding, and then the song begins to play again and the dancers are running through the patio, grabbing random people from the tables, drawing them out. John is seized immediately–-pulled into the laughing mob. Sherlock leaps up and follows.

“What are you doing?” John shouts to be heard above the pandemonium.

“I love dancing!” Sherlock shouts back, astounding him, and then he's moving to the rhythm with joyful skill and John is giggling helplessly.

_We were victims of the night_

_The chemical, physical kryptonite_

“You’re fantastic!” John says.

“I know!” Sherlock smirks. John gives a huff of pretended offense, but seeing Sherlock this excited about something not involving brainwork is good. It’s brilliant.

_Helpless to the bass and the fading light_

_Oh, we were bound to get together_

Sherlock’s eyes close momentarily and his whole body vibrates with happiness, channeling the energy of the song. John hadn’t guessed he would look like this, dancing–-at peace. Sherlock rarely looks at peace in the world.

_Oh don’t you dare look back_

_Just keep your eyes on me_

Sherlock locks eyes with John; he’s laughing. John’s not a dancer. “I don’t know what I’m doing!” he admits and Sherlock smiles, “Follow my lead.”

_I said You’re holding back_

_She said Shut up and dance with me_

Sherlock reaches out to grab his shoulders. “Come on!” he gasps, and pulls John closer, letting John find the beat through him.

_I felt it in my chest as she looked at me_

_We were bound to be together_

_Bound to be together_

Sherlock’s strong hands slide off John’s shoulders. They’re moving in sync now and Sherlock’s flushed, his curls loose over his forehead as he dances. His eyes haven't left John's.

Sherlock’s smile has faded into an intent look John recognizes.

It’s the look he focuses on a beaker full of terrifying chemicals that have reacted together perfectly, the look he gets listening to a really fantastic violin concerto on classical radio. The look he gives a logically indestructible argument. The look that says, _You are absolutely beautiful._

He’s giving that look to John.

 

Their feet slow without their volition and then they’re standing, staring at each other in the middle of the crowd. The dancers sway around them and the music pulses and they breathe together, slowly. Sherlock sees everything about everyone; nothing ever seems to surprise him. But in that moment, studying John, he looks stunned.

Realization passes like light over Sherlock’s expression. He drops John’s hands to reach for his face. “Yes?” he asks, barely audible.

“Yes,” whispers John.

 

In the middle of the music and the dancing crowd, Sherlock and John stand quietly kissing, holding each other, and it’s good. It’s brilliant.

 

[lyrics from “Shut Up and Dance” by Walk the Moon]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hyP_590dcos&nohtml5=False


End file.
